


Its Just a Bunch Of Hocus Pocus

by Ladyhydrangeas



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hocus Pocus Fusion, Halloween, Hand Jobs, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn With Plot, Spells & Enchantments, Warlocks, Werewolf Will Graham, mentions of beverly katz - Freeform, ruining your childhood probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:50:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8434090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyhydrangeas/pseuds/Ladyhydrangeas
Summary: “They say if a man of like mind lights the candle in the foyer on Halloween night, the warlock will come back to haunt this town once more.” Her voice took on a spooky tone as  she wiggled her fingers in front of her when she turned around to face her new dad. 
Hocus Pocus AU where Hannibal is a Warlock and Will stupidly lights a candle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I dont even know what I am doing with this. Enjoy~ Happy Halloween!

“This way!” Abigail called out, brushing back a few tree branches that hung low enough to catch on to her witches hat if she had let them. Her boots crunched on dead leaves and sticks, fallen on the foot worn path in the middle of the woods right outside of Salem's urban scrawl. 

“Where are we even going?” Will Graham followed close behind her, donning a pair of wolf ears Abigail managed to put together last minute. They have only been in this town for a week at best. New to the area, new to this type of life. The life of normalcy. The tragedy of what happened with the Minnesota Strike still a very deep and very open wound for both of them. They barely survived on just simply not talking about it at all. Abigail's neck scarf of the day was Halloween themed, matching the rest of her outfit in its black fabric and its red lacey details, simulating spider webs. She held a broom at her side, claiming that she had to be as authentic as possible; a spell book clasped onto a belt she had asked Will to make for her. 

It was just their luck to move into such a mischievous town, right during a mischievous time. 

“I heard about it in school. There is an Old house though these woods. They say a warlock lived there after being banished and escaping from Europe. Then mysteriously a bunch of young men disappeared. It took them a few years to finally catch the guy, hanging him for his crimes, but not before he placed a curse of his own.” Abigail hit one of sides of the tree with her broom with a thwack. “They say if a man of like mind lights the candle in the foyer on Halloween night, the warlock will come back to haunt this town once more.” Her voice took on a spooky tone as she wiggled her fingers in front of her when she turned around to face her new dad. 

Will gave her an eyebrow raise in return.

“That is one ridiculous story” He shook his head in mirth, chuckling under his breath as his foot glided over tree roots embedded into the ground. Their walk did not last much longer, the house looming ominously in the background of a small open area of dead grass and wilted flowers. Collected stones from a time long ago were arranged haphazardly to make what was assumed to be a pathway to the front door. Each rock piece was eroding from the weather, chipping away slowly into dust. Will let his foot balance on one of the pieces, shifting it back and forth with slight pressure, like a rocking ship at sea. He mentally noted its rather unstable structure and made a move to tell Abigail to be careful when he heard the woman gasp loudly, catching his attention. 

“This place is beautiful! Creepy and abandoned, but beautiful! Will! Look!” Abigail swiftly hopped from one stone to another, reaching the front door, tugging on it to test its weight. The house, made from wood, was massive to say in the least. Rather impressive for something from the late 1600s. All in all the whole place looked held together nicely. Some of the wide, wooden planks of the house were torn off, laid down next to the home itself as if waiting for repairs to happen. A stump of a tree sat in the front yard of the home, deep gashes in the center of the rings to suggest it was used for chopping wood. Whether during the time period of its owner or later, Will could not tell. 

“Abigail, it isn't safe to go inside there.” Will called out, watch his daughter swing open the door before meandering inside with a call back to him.

“Its okay, you worrier. Though it is dusty...” Clattering sounds with a thud forced the man to race into the house. Spider webs tangled in his hair, Will brushed a hand over his bangs in attempt to get most of them out. He spotted Abigail on the floor. Her hands smoothing down the sleeves of her outfit, checking for rips or tears. “I know there are light switches here somewhere. Sonia said that this place used to be a museum before they had to shut it down due to creepy circumstances.” She huffed out a rather large breath of air. Dust and webs flew up, fluttering back down to their resting places. “Ugh so dusty.”

Will placed his hands on the wall, searching for that switch she had mentioned. He still didn't know terribly well the reason why they were there in the first place. They were supposed to be meeting his coworker Beverly at her neighborhood party, to give Abigail an opportunity to meet more people and get more used to Social interaction. It was something he loathed himself, but he would do it for her. Her therapist said it would be good after what had happened. 

A whisper of cool air brushed past his ears causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. Will turned sharply towards the movement coming face to face with the source of light he had been looking for. 

How strange. 

The room filled with a dull light, the crackling and popping sound of one of the light bulbs sizzling out could be heard over the hum of the other four. To be honest it didn't help much aesthetically; the whole entire place was covered in at least an inch of dust, webs, dirt, and other things that Will didn't want to know about. 

“Looks like we are in the foyer already... Now where is that candle.” Abigail gleefully clapped her hands once before bouncing back to her feet and looking at Will directly. “You have to light it.”

“What???”

“Yeah. Come on please? If anyone can light it and have it work, it would be you.” Abigail clasped her hands behind her back, leaning back and forth.

“Why?”

“Because of your empathy.” Her voice grew quiet then, leaving more than enough unsaid. Will knew. Yes, he had his empathy. It would be more than enough to be of like mind, but it wasn't what she meant entirely. Wasn't what she had meant at all. 

He was a killer. Whether it was for good or evil intentions. Will Graham had killed Abigail Hobb's father. Shot him dead ten times over. 

He would be able to be of like mind to a man who also killed for his own purposes. 

Will tried not to let the pang of the realization effect him much. He understood, his empathy gave him the gift of understanding. That didn't necessarily mean that he had to like it. He sighed deeply, tension in his shoulders settling deep in his bones. “If you can find it.” Will relented. 

“Awesome!” Abigail's eyes scanned the room, landing on something behind an area curtained off on one side. A sacred space in the corner of the room, roped off by red velvet cords and metal poles. “There!” She bounded up to the candle, tapping lightly on the sides of it. “Says here that the Candle itself is made out of the fat of a hangman- oh ew!” Her hand flew backwards away from it. “You are going to light it right?” She looked back to him, hopefully and sly.   
He really couldn't say no to that. Will pulled out a lighter from his pocket, walking up behind her to get a better look at the candle itself. Blood red with black decorations, the candle was stunning and spooky. Abigail drew in closer as Will flipped back the cover of his lighter, the light glowing off their faces leaving shadows that morphed and changed their appearance. One single touch to the wick set the candle flame, the fire burning to life with vigor. 

They held their breath for a sign of footsteps, or the howling of the wind. They held their breath for bookshelves clattering, or for floorboards creaking They held their breath for anything at all. 

The candle flickered on.

Will let out a small sigh of relief, tension flowing out of him, reminding him to breathe once more. “Nothing happened. Guess I am not of like mind after all.” He could sense Abigail's disappointment at that. Could see her frown and her eyebrows scrunching up in confusion before that to evened itself out. 

“I suppose you're right.” Her broom tapped impatiently at her side. “Kind of lame if you ask me. So much for any Hocus Pocus happening around here.” She shook her head from side to side, stepping back from the alter. 

“Just a bunch of Hocus Pocus. Lets go, we still have time to get to Beverly's for some good punch downing and remedy candy corn. Maybe she will even have the pumpkin kind.” Will grinned, stepping back from the alter as well. 

“Ah my favorite, the pumpkin kind.”Abigail smiled, letting Will lead her with a hand on her back towards the door that was still hitched open, stuck wedged on a floorboard that became loose. 

It was right as Abigail set her final steps out of the house that two blackened and claw-like hands circled around Will's face and midsection, pulling him back into a solid form. His screams cut short as the creature's hand covered his mouth. With wide eyes Will Graham found his surrogate daughter spin around at the noise he made. Horror etched into her facial features as she screamed. It was deafening loud to him, shaking him to his core, leaving nothing but the cold shock of the unknown to fill the space. 

“A man of like mind” The creature whispered into Wills ear, the door slamming shut in front of them. 

The last thing he could remember hearing was the pounding of the door and the shouting of his name.

\------  
Will found himself drifting awake; head fuzzy and silent. His brain pounded against his skull. He attempted to move his hand up to help releive some of the pressure only to find that they couldn't move at all. Opening his eyes, Will noticed that ropes were snugly wrapped around him. They kept him in a chair that seemed at least hundreds of years old, cleaned free of cobwebs and dirt before the man had been set down.

Atleast his captor was....thoughful?

“It is good to see that you are awake. I had hoped you would not be out for long.”

Speaking of his captor. Will's gazed up from his lap towards the thing that the voice had come from. Only it was a man, not the blackened beast Will was sure he would gaze upon from the clawed hands that had grabbed him. This man was...something else entirely. He was tall and distinguished, wearing a white shirt buttoned down into a solid black waistcoat. The top was left open tastefully. just enough to see the beginning of hair on the mans chest. Sandy blond hair had been tied neatly in a pony tail by a long and thin piece of fabric. Black breeches completed the look; the man before Will looked colonial yet of a higher class.

He was stunning. 

He was also stirring something in a cauldron that was bubbling precariously on the rim. The Wooden paddle scraped against the bottom of the cauldron as the man worked. 

“The forests in this area have a little spell of their own. Your daughter will find herself preoccupied until my work here is done.” It was said with such a matter-of-fact tone; Will practically rolled his eyes at it. Another ingredient found its way into the cauldron. The smell tantalizing even from where Will was sitting. His stomach growled, yearning for something of substance. 

He really should have eaten at least lunch today. 

“What work is that? I honestly don't see where I am involved with any of this,” Will muttered under his breath. He was getting nervous. Not that he would ever admit that out loud, but this man had some sort of intention with him. It was why he found himself tied up and well...not dead. That gave him the smallest bit of room to hope that he could get out of this alive. It was a hope that he would choose to cling to, if only for Abigail's sake. He couldn't imagine leaving her in the world without a father again. Just letting the thought of that surface left Will with the greatest sense of dread. 

“You involve plenty” The man simply replied, topping off the rest of his mixture with a sprinkle of something unknown. “There is no need to be afraid. My name is Hannibal Lecter.” Will stared incredulously. Why on earth would the man just give his name out like that. Names had power right? Or was that just in fiction. Will's ears twitched at the thought. 

Twitched.

What...

The...

Hell...

He frantically pulled his arms up from the chair in an attempt to move his hands to the top of his head but failing miserably. Scratching sounds from the wood chair sliding against the wooden floorboards filled the space they were sharing, followed by the sounds of rope against the fine fibers of the chair arms. His newly formed ears stood straight from the shock he was feeling. 

“No, no. None of that struggling William.” Hannibal blew into the cauldron, the potion glowing green, before taking a step back thus taking a step towards Will himself. “I'm almost finished. You just have to be a bit more patient.” Each word was accented by the sound of his footsteps. Will pressed himself back into the chair in a means to somehow morph himself into its surface. Anything to get the furthest away from the other. He cringed as Hannibal's hand reached out towards him, brushing lightly on the back of the ear. 

Oh.

Ohhhh. 

Will sighed pleased, nuzzling the hand from his ear to his cheek earning himself a loving scratch at the base of the ear and a hand carding through his curls. That felt even more pleasurable, it was unreal. 

“I guess you like them then? “ Hannibal smirked, content in the reaction he was receiving. “It was such a shame to have only left your little costume as such. Why not be the real thing for a while.”

Will Graham had fucking wolf ears. 

Not the weirdest thing to happen today actually. 

Will grumbled out something under his breath, exasperated, annoyed, enjoying the attention more than he should. His head snapped back with the realization, shaking the hand off. This man was keeping him tied to a chair. This man was making a potion of who knows what (even if it did smell good) and Will was falling into a trap with the distractions. 

“So how do I involve in all of this?” He demanded curtly, earning a tsk from the other and a small swat on the nose that left Will momentarily stunned. 

“Fear makes you rude, William.”

“How do you even know my name!?” He snapped back. Hannibal held up Will's wallet. It flipped open showing his ID and a picture of himself with his seven dogs. He suddenly found himself feeling rather robbed of his personal space. “I'm not the one keeping someone tied down to a chair.” His next attempt to get a raise out of the other also failing. This was certainly getting him nowhere quickly. He attempted another swift shift in his position, tipping the chair with him but not enough due to a weight of a hand on his shoulder that wasn't there before. Hannibal's face being quite unreadable now. Just a fraction of a frown graced his features, minute and just as terrifying as anything. The man bent himself down so that they were eye to eye. Words flowed past his lips in a language Will did not understand, each syllable haunting and mesmerizing. His eyes grew heavy, vision hazy just around the edges. His body relaxed, word after word having an effect on his whole being.

Everything was fine. 

He was meant to be there. 

Everything was fine. 

The hand was back at the top of his head, scratching behind the wolf ear and earning a sigh of utter contentment out of Will. At that moment of time there was just no where else Will wanted to be at. Pure bliss filled all his senses. He let out a loud whimper when the hand finally removed itself. 

“Shhhh, its okay. I will be right back my lovely pet.” Hannibal gave one final ruffle of the chocolate mop of curls on Will's head before sauntering back to the cauldron. Its potion bubbling and frothing respectively. “Its perfect.” The man lightly clapped his hands once, grabbing a wooden ladle and spooning the mixture into a bowl. He turned his attention back to his beautiful captive. The spell he woven into his words working like a charm to soothe over and frayed nerves the other could have. Fear made them taste quite bitter, after all. “You have to drink all of this, do you understand?”

Will nodded his head, leaning back into his chair boneless. His mind tried to bring up alarm. Danger was lurking behind the man with the potion. That devilish man with an accent that was sinfully delicious. Everything was fine though. He was right where he needed to be. The alarm in the back of his mind suffocated under the waves of ease and rightfulness he was feeling. 

Hannibal brought up another chair next to Will, bowl of his spell in hand with a spoon in the other. Taking a spoonful, he carefully lifted the spoon to Will's lips, watching the man's throat contract beautifully as he drank. His mind wandered to other things Will's throat would beautifully contract to, stirrings of arousal beginning in the pit of his stomach. 

He had plenty of time. The woods would change and warp the path around it until Hannibal was finished with his meal. A smirk graced his features as he continued to take spoonful after spoonful, feeding Will. He joyously watched as the mans body started glowing; from feet to the top of his head and extension the ears he found he rather liked. It was a good idea to place the becoming spell on the other, changing outward appearances to reality. The man would make such a lovely guard wolf. 

Will moaned over the liquid sliding down his throat. “Its delicious,” He managed to grunt out, shifting awkwardly in his seat. His whole body felt like it was slowly rising in heat. As if a fever had taken over or what he felt like once he got a few shots of whiskey in his system. He craved the friction his jeans had against his cock, only noticing now it growing interested in the events taking place. He craved the pleasurable touch to be back at the top of his head. Demanded it so. Moving his head in an upward motion while staring directly at Hannibal. 

Hannibal tilted his head to the side, judging. It was interesting to see this type of reaction in the man. Everyone had a different reaction, even if they were similar in some aspects. The size of the tent in the mans jeans just one of them. He waved his finger in a quick cutting motion, letting the ropes fall into strands around the chair Will was occupying. The man writhed wantonly at the freedom he received, now able to run his hands down his sides, grabbing and cupping his erection. The moan released now was louder, more primal. 

Hannibal quickly snatched the mans hands away from himself. 

“You are not allowed to touch,” he scolded. Will growled back, pupils dilating with the order. Hannibal closed his eyes and took in a breath, sniffing. The man was almost there, he just need a little extra push in the right direction. “Use your words dear one, you can still talk.”

“Fuck you. Ughhhh Fuck me.” Will troubled over which one he really wanted more at that moment of time; to lash out at the man, contented bliss be damned, or to jump the man and grind himself into completion. “What spell did you place on me, good god.” 

That startled a stark laugh out of Hannibal. “God? No. The spell was just to relax you, soothe your mind over from your troubles.” The next words came out in a whisper, “The rest my lovely pet. That is all you.” He placed his own hand on Wills erection, thrusting up and down the shaft still under the clothes the man wore.

Will's mind went blank. 

That was exactly where Hannibal wanted him to be. He unzipped the mans pants, pulling them down enough to relish in the sight of utter debouchedness that William wore so perfectly. Red cheeked and breathing heavily, completed with eyes as dark and lustful as the nights of the new moon. The moaning escalated as he grasped the mans cock, thrusting lengthwise slowly. Then with more speed, Hannibal expertly pressed down on the tip of Wills cock, smearing the head with its own precum. The room charged with sexual tension, an energy Hannibal thrived on. He closed his eyes, sucking the life force and sexual energy in through his mouth, groaning with its taste. So much better than fear ever was. It was firey, passion filling, hot and earthy like cinnamon. His movements quickened even more, dragging moan after grunt after growl from the sinful man below him. A sight truly to be told about for generations. Painted permanently in his mind palace so he could go back to it anytime he wished. Each thrust brought the man closer and closer until a scream ripped from his throat and sticky cum decorated his hand and the mans still clothed stomach. 

Will slumped back against the chair, breathing heavily. His ears twitched, overstrung and sensitive to the noises around them. That was good. That was more than good. Will couldn't even begin to describe it right now, words failing him in every fashion. 

He felt tired, sleepiness setting in every pore of his body. A whisper of words and a ghost of a kiss imprinted on his mind before he fell into slumber. 

“My lovely pet, you are perhaps my favorite.”

___

The slamming of a door startled Will awake. He jumped, his wolf headband falling to the ground in a clatter. A thud against his body, arms wrapping around his midsection and a particular scratchiness of hair underneath his chin provided enough evidence for his senses to determine that Abigail was the culprit of the sudden hug he found himself in. 

“I was worried Will! When the door slammed shut. And the monster there! I thought you would be dead!” She hiccuped around cries her body held in until that moment. Her whole body shaking with adrenaline and exhaustion. “I ran to Beverly's house and we tried to find our way back but we kept getting lost. I don't even know how! The path was a straight one before!” Abigail was babbling now, tight with tension and confusion. “What happened?!?!?” 

Will patted her on the head, blinking slowly. “I... I honestly don't remember. Im fine though, dear. I am fine.” A small smile given to help soothe her and a tight embrace to help chase away the bad thoughts, Will wondered what repercussions will happen in the next therapy session they had. 

A small voice in the back of his mind whispered to him. “You are perhaps my favorite”

 

A few days later, a young man went missing from the small town of Salem.


End file.
